


The Swallowtail

by empty_battlefield



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Not Sadstuck, Other, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-08 17:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_battlefield/pseuds/empty_battlefield
Summary: 10/10/2020: Scroll down. The actual story is titled Splinters. This is an inactive work. Splinters is an active work.A derpy buck toothed eleven year old makes unlikely friends with his summer camp "cabin mate", a kid who just wants to keep his nose out of trouble.Jake's bound to kick the bucket one of these days. Before that though, he'd always hoped he'd get to spend some of that life with his first best friend from childhood.Dirk doesn't make this so easy. Like parent, like son--he's got a knack for breaking ties, shirking responsibility and running off.Over the course of three decades, Dirk and Jake weave in and out of each other's lives. Will either of them ever stay put for good?





	1. Moxie

**Author's Note:**

> Does this story look familiar? If it does, it's because this is a continuation of one of my other short fics, "Some Fella." The first chapter here begins with an edited version of that fic, and will continue on from there. Unraveling the _rest_ of Dirk and Jake's story has been something I've been thinking about doing for a while, but never did. With hope, I'll update every other Tuesday. <3

**Eleven Years  
“Moxie”**

They met on the first day of summer camp. Dirk was getting to be the age (eleven years old) in which he had spent year after year there—he was just starting to get fed up with it. Luckily, this would be his last summer in this place. His older brother Dave said he wouldn’t have to after this, and he was the one who was in charge now. 

“You keep your head down, and your nose out of trouble—and you’ll come through eventually,” he’d said.

And Dirk wasn’t about to deviate from what Dave had said.

* * *

Four to a cabin, like always. The first two boys Dirk knew. They were regulars, and troublemakers as well. One was tall and thin, the other short and rather pudgy. Droog and Deuce. They both wore an identical expression—a sour one that explained that they got separated from another friend, and were pissed to be stuck with Dirk instead. They tossed their bags atop the two bunks on the right, leaving Dirk to be stuck with whoever the new kid was.

The new kid was funny looking, with glasses and large teeth that stuck out over thick lips and a strong jaw. He had messy black hair and green eyes that liked to squint at everything. 

Droog and Deuce didn't say much at all. New Kid proudly introduced himself as Jake English. 

Jake set his bag down to claim the bottom bunk. This in particular lit a flame under Dirk—it was customary to throw a few punches over it (he’d assumed Droog and Deuce had already gotten theirs in on the bus). Dirk pursed his lips and said nothing at all about it.

Then Jake began talking, nonstop, about everything under the sun, in a thick accent from God knows where—all the while squinting at everything and how great it was. 

"Shucks...this is a whopper of a room, isn't it?" Jake said, ogling at the beds and the tiny space of floor in between. He spun around himself in a dopey little circle. He looked very dumb doing this. He didn’t seem to care, though.

Deuce and Droog exchanged a look with each other, then with Dirk. Once again—Dirk pursed his lips, and said nothing. 

"Feel these sheets, fellas—they're as soft as a baby's rump," he said, running his fingers over the waffled fabric. "Grandma would say that it's soft enough for her to even sleep in, if she felt this!" 

Droog sniggered. "You sleep with your grandma?" he asked sarcastically. 

"Not much anymore," he replied flatly, and Deuce and Droog each sniggered. "When I was little I used to get scared, but I'm an adventurer now, and adventurers ought not to get scared." 

The mention of Jake in bed with his grandmother was all it took to send Deuce and Droog off the edge into a howls of uncontrollable laughter. Even Dirk bit his lip to keep the smile behind his lips. 

"Yeah. Easy there, fellas. Don't want to knock yourselves silly," he said uneasily when the two boys wouldn't stop laughing at him. 

Jake's brow puzzled up—he looked to Dirk for an explanation. Dirk looked away and went about unpacking his bag instead, now that he was stuck with the top bunk. Sure, he felt secondhand embarrassment for Jake. Anyone would. But he knew he ought to mind his own business. 

Jake brushed it off, and copied Dirk's idea. "We all ought to turn in rather soon, I think," he said. He took a few things out of his bag—a case for his glasses and a water bottle, both of which he put on the floor. He also pulled out a stuffed plushie, which he set delicately on the bed. 

"What is _that?_" Droog asked. 

Droog was pointing at the toy, which sort of looked like a ghost with two sets of wavy horns. It’s white body had faded into a not so white, with the exception of its glasses and sour facial expression were detailed with faint green. Whatever the hell it was supposed to be—and Dirk didn’t care much—the plush was clearly old and worn. 

"Him? Oh, that's Mr. Erisolsprite!" Jake exclaimed, holding the toy out for Droog to see. 

"Did he take a roll in the mud?" Droog snickered, pointing out the faded fabric. 

"My mum and dad gave him to me when I was little," Jake replied as he examined the toy, "and so he's been through a bit of a rough and tumble since then." He replaced it carefully against the pillows. 

Deuce and Droog each shot another glance Dirk's way when Jake wasn't watching. 

"You'll have to excuse me, fellas," Jake said. "I think I have to go to the bathroom." Only he said it like _bahr-throom_, which only made the boys snigger more. Jake disappeared out the door. 

The door slammed shut, and Deuce and Droog started laughing hysterically. 

"I can't take this kid," Droog said, shaking his head. He tried to share a sideways smile with Dirk. Dirk saw it out of the corner of his eye, but pretended he didn’t hear them. 

"He’s a dumbass!" Deuce giggled. "He’s got absolutely no chill. He still sleeps with his stuffed animal—he’s freaking ten years old!" 

Droog snickered. He picked up the toy by its curly white tail. 

"He really needs to wash this thing." 

Deuce was up in an instant, unscrewing the cap off of his water bottle and holding it over Jake’s bed.

Dirk crossed the room and took hold of Deuce's chubby wrist just as he was about to start the “bath”. 

He surprised even himself. He felt his hands shake a bit, and wondered if Deuce felt it too. But he tried his best to keep his face stoic and his voice steady. Dave he knew, wouldn’t have had a problem with this.

Deuce sniggered at him. "Coming to your husband's aid? How cute," he giggled. 

It was an effort to keep his voice from shaking all over the place. "I don't want you to get all of us in trouble. You think that kid won't tattle first chance he gets?" 

Droog and Deuce exchanged a smirk. But Deuce recapped the bottle. 

Dirk reached for the toy, but Droog hoisted himself up the ladder on his side of the room. He tossed it over Dirk's head to Deuce, who had climbed up to Dirk’s bed to catch it. Now Dirk was caught in the thick of a game of monkey in the middle, as the rowdy boys tossed and kicked Jake's talisman back and forth over his head. 

Finally Dirk had ambled up the ladder to his bed. With the threat of being pushed off the top bunk, Deuce hopped off, gracefully landing on the floor. "Fine," Deuce said. "Have the filthy thing." Deuce took a step back, tossed the plushie in the air, and swiftly kicked it into Dirk's chest. 

Dirk's breath clenched as the force behind it hit him hard. He tried not to let the boys see him winded. 

When Dirk turned around, Deuce stood faithfully by Droog at the door. 

Droog smiled. "We're going over to the girls' cabins," he declared. "Care to join us?" he offered jokingly. They both knew Dirk wasn’t about to say yes.

Dirk stood up straight and pursed his lips. "As much as I hate this place, I don't wanna get myself thrown out," he replied coolly. 

The boys sneered at him like they’d sneered at Jake—even as Droog led Deuce out the cabin door. 

It slammed shut. Dirk examined the toy in his hands. There was a new distinct footprint on it—and although the plush was filthy already, Jake was sure to notice it. Absently, he tried to rub away the brown streaks with the edge of his shirt, when the doorknob began to click loud in his ears. 

_That was Jake, returning from the bathroom._ The toy felt hot in Dirk's hands. In a fit of panic, he ambled up to the top bunk and tossed it behind his pillow. If only he’d _minded his own business_, then none of these problems would be his. 

"Where are the other fellas off to?" Jake asked plaintively, when he returned to the room. 

He thought about Deuce and Droog putting their arms around eleven-year-old girls in the other cabins. "They went out," Dirk replied shortly. 

"But—" he complained, "nobody is allowed to leave the cabins after 7pm or before 6am, unless accompanied by a buddy and in the case of emergency—" 

Dirk abruptly cut him off. "They just went _out,_ okay." 

Jake looked confused for a hot second. His dark eyebrows crinkled and his front teeth resting on frowned lips. "Um. Okay." 

Dirk had returned to his unpacking, but Jake kept babbling on. He sat on his bed and bounced a bit on the mattress. "I was surely expecting that we would have to pitch our own tents and book it by ourselves in the woods," he said. "But it's awesome because that means we get to be cabin mates! What's your name?" 

It was a small room. Jake was sure to notice his toy was gone eventually. He was too lost in his own thoughts to realize that Jake had asked him a question. "Dirk," he replied. 

Jake's face brightened at the answer. "Ello, Dirk! Nice to meet you." Jake stuck out a hand for Dirk to shake. 

Dirk took it—tentatively slipped his spidery fingers into Jake's outstretched palm. "Yeah, nice to meet you too." 

He finally looked at his empty bed and frowned. "Dirk, you haven't happened to have seen Mr. Erisol, have you?" 

"Um," Dirk replied, feeling a sinkhole form in his stomach. “Maybe he fell under the bed?" he lied. Cringing at his own use of _he_ and not _it_. 

Jake knelt down on the floor, and sure enough, came up empty handed. "No," he mourned. He went to look under Deuce’s bed, and obviously came up with nothing. 

"I could help you look," Dirk said. He felt nausea climbing into his head, and guilt sinking further into his stomach. 

"Please do," Jake said, sounding childlike. "My mum and dad gave him to me, and if I lose him, Grandma will be livid..." 

Dirk got up from the bed and began pretending to search, guiltily. After a while, he realized Jake wasn’t going to give it up. He plucked Mr. Erisol off the top bunk, and presented him shamefully to Jake. 

Jake's face brightened. "Aha! There you are!" He grabbed the toy from Dirk's grasp. "Where did you find him?" 

"Uh, There," he replied, pointing to a corner of the room they’d definitely checked already. He waited to be laughed at.

“Thank goodness,” Jake said breathlessly. Jake took Dirk’s answer completely at face value—he also didn't seem to notice the footprint at all. Maybe he was just happy to have found it. Or maybe he was incredibly stupid. “I would’ve been in incredible trouble I reckon, had you not spotted him,” Jake babbled on. “I couldn’t imagine losing him forever.” He hugged the stuffed animal close to his chest. “He’s special.” 

"_Special?_" Dirk asked. He didn't _want_ to laugh at Jake, and strongly resisted the urge to do so. 

"Yes," Jake replied, clutching it tightly. "I've lived with Grandma since I was five, but he's from before, when I lived with Mum and Dad." 

"Wait," Dirk asked. "Where _are_ your parents?" 

Jake looked up, and pointed at the ceiling. 

Dirk knitted his brow for a second—then understood what Jake meant, and felt like slapping himself in the face. He guessed that Jake’s Gran was religious or something. "I'm sorry," Dirk said flatly. 

"It's alright. I forgive you." 

Dirk nodded, not saying anything. He didn’t think he deserved Jake’s blind forgiveness. Especially since he didn’t know what Dirk really needed to be forgiven for. He and Jake each got dressed and ready for bed in silence. 

"Nighty night," Jake said as he climbed into his bed. 

"G'night."

* * *

Dirk suddenly awoke to a noise below him. Hiccups, maybe...Dirk's ears were not yet tuned in to wakefulness. The room was dark, save for a nightlight Jake had plugged into the wall. Dirk silently looked around the room, and saw that Droog and Deuce had not yet returned from their nightly rendezvous. 

Dirk shifted onto his stomach—half of his body hung over the side of the top bunk as he peered down at Jake. Sure enough, Jake was sitting up in bed, and he _was_ the one who was making all the racket. 

He had his glasses on, and he was coughing forcefully into his fist. When Jake looked over at Dirk, he was a little ruddy over his freckled cheeks—either from embarrassment or the effort, Dirk couldn't really tell. His round face looked surprised to see him awake. Jake managed to convert it to a half-smile between fits. "Sorry to have woken you up," he said. 

Dirk stared at him, face still. "Are you okay?" 

"Ah, don't worry, mate! I'm quite alright." He reached for the bottle of water on the floor. "What serendipity, though—that the other fellas have gone out. I'm glad at least them two got a bit of shut eye!" He laughed a bit, which quickly turned into a cough. He suppressed it with a swig of water. 

Dirk didn't have the heart to tell him that sleeping was probably the _last_ thing they were doing. He himself didn’t want to know what boys did when they snuck into girls’ cabins. He honestly wondered if Jake even knew what sex _was._

Jake's breath had calmed down a bit, and he gave Dirk that winning, buck-toothed grin. He sat criss-cross applesauce on the bed, with the water bottle between his legs, staring up at Dirk. 

"You good?" Dirk asked warily. 

Jake nodded. "Yep! Unfortunately that happens once in a blue moon. Grandma keeps saying I don't breathe too good when I'm lying down, and that I ought not to," he said. "My apologies that you had to see it, though." 

Dirk got confused. "Is—is something the matter with you?" 

Jake's face crinkled up in nonrecognition. "Something—the matter?" he repeated blankly. Then he figured it out. "Oh. Right. My doctor says that I was born with weak lungs," Jake said to him.

Dirk spoke down at Jake, "What, is that like diabetes? My cousin has that." 

"What? Er, no," Jake says. "Dr. Jane says my heart doesn't pump blood all the way to my lungs. So unfortunately, I'm mostly going to have to take a time-out while you chaps are playing sports." 

"So does that mean you're gonna die?" Dirk asked. He didn’t mean to be rude or anything, he just wanted to know.

There was a long pause. "I got it from my mum and dad," he said, "And that's why I live with Grandma now." He bit his lip for a moment. Then his downcast eyes brightened, and turned to him excitedly. "But they've got me on some new medicine now, and Dr. Jane says it ought to help me lots. I've been feeling loads better, so I'd say it's doing its job!" He flashed a winning smile again, laughing a bit.

Dirk smiled back, closed lips. He felt bad for Jake, ten years old and pretending he's not going to die soon. Soon? Was it going to be soon? He certainly wasn’t going to ask Jake any more questions. 

Jake changed the subject to rake out the awkward silence that had accumulated. Or maybe it was because thoughts in his brain tended to shoot around randomly like pinballs. "Mind if I join you up there?” He was already climbing up the ladder up to the foot of Dirk’s bunk, uninvited. “I’m going to be an adventurer, did you know? I’ve already gone to Memphis, last summer. Is there anyplace you’d like to go someday, Dirk?”

Dirk didn’t have to think much. “Alaska,” he said. He felt the need to folow it up with, “Dave thinks it’s stupid, though.”

“Alaska! That’s a good one. Visit the Eskimos,” he said, pulling Dirk’s blanket up around his face, pretending it was a fur lined hood. “Why Alaska?”

“None of your fucking business,” Dirk replied coldly.

Before Dave became in charge of Dirk, they, like Jake, had lived with his parents too. But he sure as hell wasn’t about to tell Jake why he didn’t anymore, even though Jake had openly extended that courtesy to him.

“Er—alright,” Jake flustered.

Dirk rested his chin on his hands and stared at a stain on the wall. He could feel Jake squinting up at him, then down at his lap.

Jake must have figured that he was making his new friend uncomfortable. He said, "Look, I didn't mean to be a bad comrade. Grandma says sometimes I prattle too much." 

Dirk nodded. Jake climbed back down into his own bed, and Dirk kicked back in his, burying himself into the sheets. He shut his eyes. 

Jake did the same. He let out a few weak coughs as he lied down. Dirk could hear him continuously shifting around in the bed as he tried to find a good position to sleep in. 

Dirk chanced peeking over the side again. He watched Jake struggle to arrange his two pillows in a way that supported his back

"Just take the ones off Deuce and Droog's beds, if you need more,” he said after watching him for a while.

Jake turned up to him in surprise. "I couldn't," he replied uneasily. "Everyone gets two for good reason, it wouldn't be right to pilfer them from our mates for when they get back—" 

"They're not going to come back," Dirk blurted out finally. "They snuck into the girls cabin tonight." 

Jake looked flustered. His mouth was slightly open, with his prominent overbite on display. "Oh. Did they at least invite you to tag along?" 

"Yeah," Dirk replied casually. "But—it's not really my scene, so I didn't go." 

He closed his mouth, making a sort of nodding gesture. "That's very capital of you, Dirk," Jake said thoughtfully. He climbed out of bed and gathered the pillows from the other two beds and piled them on his own. 

He smiled. "It's just you and me then, eh? Could be kind of like a slumber party! Just you and me, and Mr. Erisolsprite." He cuddled the stuffed toy in his arms. "What would you say to that?" 

Dirk let himself a rationed smile. "Cool." 

"Okey doke!" Jake said cheerfully. He took one last swig of water and returned his glasses to their case with a loud snap. He shimmied down into the pillows, Mr. Erisolsprite tucked under one arm. Dirk lie on his back once again.

In the darkness, Jake's voice came very small. "Dirk?" 

"Yeah?" 

He said, "Thank you for not letting me fly solo, there. You didn't have to do that." 

Dirk paused before speaking. 

"It was nothing." 

Jake said after a pause, "Not—really. I, I don't know if you're aware of this, but—well, as Grandma likes to put it, getting along with the other boys isn't really my strong suit. So, it means a lot that one with as much moxie as yourself, would take kindly to a rather shy fellow, like _my_self." 

Dirk stared up at the dark ceiling. “What’s ‘moxie’?”

“It’s sort of like gall,” Jake answered. Dirk also didn’t know what gall meant, and the look he gave Jake told him so. Jake backtracked, “But it’s more like—you’ve got a pep in your step, because you won’t let anyone get in your way and everybody knows. It’s like strength of character.”

Dirk didn’t think of himself as much of a ‘strong character.’ Certainly not a main one. If his life were a television program, he was sure he’d be one of the sideshows. He didn’t think that deserved much in the way of praise or anything.

"And I hope that you don't let your brother's chagrining get to you, either," he added sourly. "He's a scoundrel who wouldn't understand chivalry of it hit him in the dadblasted face." 

Dirk knew Jake could hear him smile as he spoke, but he didn't care. "Scoundrel? That's a good one, Jake. I'm gonna call him that next time he wants to strife." 

Jake let out a strained chuckle. "Right." He coughed. "Well, nighty-night, Dirk." 

"'Night."

* * *

Dirk was roused from sleep by noises, not his alarm clock. 

He forced his eyelids to open. 

Jake was up, bustling under him—already dressed for the day. He was stuffing the last few of his things into his oversized backpack. He looked about ready to hustle out the door. 

Dirk sprung upright out of bed so fast he hit his head hard on the ceiling. Dirk swore. Jake winced.

"What time is it?" Dirk asked.

Jake seemed alarmed to see him awake. "Five thirty, mate," he said slowly. "You're not unpunctual." 

A dull headache settled into his head. Wake up call was at six. The boys weren't back yet, but in the time that he was awake, Jake had replaced their pillows and made all three of their beds perfectly. "Wait—where are _you_ going?" 

Jake slung his bag over one shoulder. "I'm down to the med cabin," he said rather awkwardly. "There's some medicine I've got to take before we go off today." 

Dirk supposed that made sense. The downcast look that settled into Jake’s features told that he probably wasn’t looking forward to it. 

He hopped down from the top bunk, not bothering with the ladder. "Well, who's going with you? You're not allowed to go anywhere before six AM without a buddy, y'know." 

Jake blinked. "Oh...well, I guess I was just going to go by myself." 

“I bet if you had to get a needle, you’d cry, right?”

“I would not!” Jake said. “Sometimes they give me needles, and I _never_ cry.”

Dirk was pulling a shirt on already. There was no way he was going back to bed, anyway. “Prove it,” he said as he shoved his feet into shoes. 

Jake gave him a baffled look. Then he grinned. "I’m going to make you eat your words, Dirk Strider,” he said proudly. “You won’t even need to eat breakfast. Just you see!”

Dirk smiled. “We’ll see about that,” he said. The grass and the woods and the other cabins yellowed with morning as the two of them trumped up the lawn.


	2. This Work IS Being Continued, Elsewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic IS being continued, under a different name. link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923690/chapters/65705986#workskin

Hey!

I don't know if anyone follows this story--but it's being continued under a different name on this same account (Title: Splinters). Like actually, this time. 

I think.

Let's hope the reception is good. 

Anyway--I'll likely keep this unfinished one up just for kicks--let it be like a second draft of the first chapter. But anyway, I've linked it here:

Enjoy, friends! <3

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923690/chapters/65705986#workskin


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